Thursday, 29 June 2017

We Will Bury You

*Note - This text contains the names of all of the MPs who voted against the proposed end of the cap on public sector pay. This is a spell against the character of the idea that seems to have populated the lives of these individuals. It is also a feeling of nausea at seeing the same names cropping up over & over again. The text was composed between 11:35 and 13:03 on the 29th June 2017. The title is borrowed from a protest slogan once yelled by William Rowe.*




 We Will Bury You



Tonight, whilst you sleep you will begin to convulse. You will need to be saved. Nigel Adams.

Tonight, whilst you are dying the world will sleep assured that you will disappear. Adam Afriyie.

Tonight, whilst you are dreaming of your world cells will latch their teeth into your bone marrow. Peter Aldous.

Tonight, whilst you lie dutifully on the ground your gut will wrench & prickle. You will shit in your bed. You will lie there, you will come out of your dreams asking for help. Lucy Allan.

Tonight, whilst your body rocks backward & forward in consternation, in doubt you will feel your heart murmur. There is a hole in your heart. Heidi Allen.

Tonight, whilst you sleep your fears will pour back into your head. The ladders will not come to your burning windows. Stuart Andrew.

Tonight, whilst you are alive there will be coughs & blood in your piss. Edward Argar.

Tonight, whist the wind is turning gently on its course you will catch the wind in your throat & your throat shall stop your arms & feet will ache you will wretch & know that you need to be saved & helped & cured. Victoria Atkins.

Tonight, whilst you low in your stall your public will renounce the use of violence. They will discover the hammer and renounce its violence into your brains. Into your weddings. Into your right to bare arms. Into your fields. Mr Richard Bacon.

Tonight, over the tops of the ceilings a siren, a spider, a light sweeping. In your room the faint murmur of gaslight & paralysis. Tonight, the dialysis machine in your neck. Sorrow. Always sorrow. Mrs Kemi Badenoch.

Tonight, whilst you are gone. You are gone forever & forever. Mr Steve Baker.

Tonight the dead will. The dead will. & "we will bury you!". Harriett Baldwin.

Tonight is fuel is your body. Kindling. In your ribs a sudden volt of traction. A nebulous subsonic itch crashing into your salary. A careless spell catches your stars. The edge of a rib cuts into your lung. Stephen Barclay.

Tonight, whilst in your need you cry out. You cry out for someone to come to help you. All your private establishments have gone to their beds. There must be an ambulance somewhere in this long night of blades. "Come to me! Come to me!". Silence. "Help me!". Mr John Baron.

Tonight, it is because your voices have acquiesced to unthinking forever & forever. This occasion is a public birthday. One decision amongst a planet. It is your whole thought has been destroyed. Nothing of you left. Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease. Guto Bebb.

Tonight, as if in love you turn in your naked bed. You turn & are ripped out & aborted. Forced to swallow yourself. Sir Henry Bellingham.

Tonight, is goodnight to a lifetime. Richard Benyon.

Tonight, whilst you pace in your prison cell packed in with the men you made your life to desocate there are no guards. There is a stone coffin. Sir Paul Beresford.

Tonight, oh the pausing death of astriction & 29 other galaxies close in the love is just there behind your eye your eye refuses to turn there is no one can help you. Capped to death. Over the fields the stars pop & speak in quiet reluctant approvals. Jake Berry.

Tonight, just a hundred more. Bob Blackman.

Tonight, there are only your names. They are harmless stockades & get drunk. Crispin Blunt.

Tonight, you scratch, I'll fucking waste you, dear come back to bed. A week is a long time. A bubo. Nick Boles.

Tonight, what will come to your bed? Lavender. Buddleia.

Tonight, for the carers who took to save you. For the taken chop. For these titles, do you become allergic to yourself? Sir Peter Bottomley.

Tonight, whilst the reaction. Andrew C Bowie.

Tonight, banging out in the principalities. Listening to orchids thrash about. You were so patient. You died laughably still, but the agony there behind the mouth that could not plead. That had sewn itself shut like the insult of a cap. Ben Bradley.

Tonight, bargaining. Oh God, what are all these scratches in the loft beams? Karen Bradley.

Tonight, whilst the flame muttered whilst the fibre optic manhole cover threw its laughing throat to the sky the miasma, God it makes his belly gurgle. Mr Graham Brady.

Tonight, the winch is understated. Jack Brereton.

Tonight, in the pillory the bricks rained like mouths. Andrew Bridgen.

Tonight, racking up the lives. Your namesake, even that is gone. Steve Brine.

Tonight, I self attacked in KY & the incidents of your life. Whilst you lay in your bed your life touched the sky. James Brokenshire. Fiona Bruce.

Tonight, lie there sporting a cut. Robert Buckland.

Tonight, Jokes fall on the limbs of volunteer sectors. Everything in your arms is vanishing scissors Must combust. Must animate. Alex Burghart.

Tonight, the rodents play on your sore feet for hours & hours like the hope made us better people? Conor Burns.

Tonight, dust is flowering the heart. The monitor is so flat the greetings of birds don't come back in the morning. Everyone is sad. Everyone agrees on the sanctity of life. Alistair Burt.

Tonight, penitence the circumstance. Guilt will clutch your sleeping heads. Alun Cairns.

Tonight, pleasuring yourself till it gives out. Riots again, best to stay in bed. James Cartlidge.

Tonight, gasping. Gas. Lights off. Have you realised yourself? Sir William Cash.

Tonight, a thin tube connecting the bladder to the will. Maria Caulfield.

Tonight, shock of electronic heating is gone windows are taxed again women throw themselves under Stonewall massacres whilst the organisations of sanctioned poetry cannot help us to live. Cut the line your throat reads out loud. Alex Chalk.

Tonight, stabbing pains in all directions. What? Sorry? Rehman Chishti Paul Maynard Sir Patrick McLoughlin Stephen McPartland Esther McVey Mark Menzies Johnny Mercer Huw Merriman Stephen Metcalfe Mrs Maria Miller Amanda Milling Nigel Mills Anne Milton Mr Andrew Mitchell Damien Moore Penny Mordaunt Nicky Morgan Anne Marie Morris David Morris James Morris Wendy Morton David Mundell Mrs Sheryll Murray Dr Andrew Murrison Robert Neill Sarah Newton Caroline Nokes Jesse Norman Neil O'Brien Dr Matthew Offord Guy Opperman Neil Parish Priti Patel  Mr Owen Paterson Mark Pawsey Mike Penning John Penrose Andrew Percy Claire Perry Chris Philp Christopher Pincher Dr Dan Poulter Rebecca Pow Victoria Prentis Mr Mark Prisk Mark Pritchard Tom Pursglove Jeremy Quin Will Quince Dominic Raab John Redwood Mr Jacob Rees-Mogg

Tonight, cladding is a bailiff being taken down for a good hard fuck in the face. This is the custody of your public. You see it for the first time. Starts this evening. Done by dawn. Mr Christopher Chope.

Tonight, clusters of maggots born inside you. You are not a life. It is not wrong to want you removed. You said. Jo Churchil.

Tonight, there are a thousand more burning windows waiting to shriek out so what, employ some dead vehicle of malign racism. Justice is done for your name only, yours. & the branks is you. The branks is you. The scold. Colin Clark.

Tonight, you hit at the keys making some kind of horrible sense like there's cork bark in every spot. Greg Clark.

Tonight, the hatred you turn into your spouse, your children, the whole - it goes back into you like a moan of satisfaction. Mr Kenneth Clarke.

Tonight, not the bees. Oh God not the bees. Mr Simon Clarke.

Tonight, your skin is mildew the only hope is the cops. They are all alive & scoffing on. James Cleverly.

Tonight, Help. Help is the missing digit the scars of cockroach signatures melt in the environmental hazard switch. Geoffrey Clifton-Brown.

Tonight, whilst you go in & out of your horrible little dream, then this then that, blah. Never stop dreaming. Dr Thérèse Coffey.

Tonight, the hazard warning lights keep you rolling your eyes penitence never never will come there is a voice banging on the door whilst the fires wrap you up but you hate that voice & will not get it to come to you & to help you it will soar off in the wind like a whinging kid & you will yawn in satisfaction because now that it is gone there is little left for you to do but boil and steam to death, a cooked confession of the policies of social eradication. What a starched emblem of conservative truths you are. No we do not need poetics of hope. No we do not fetishise despair either. The point is you are not coming back. That is the entire life of your impact on the world: That you leave it in flames & that those that you have killed are no longer there. It is simple. It figures. Damian Collins. James Duddridge David Duguid Mr Iain Duncan Smith Sir Alan Duncan Mr Philip Dunne Michael Ellis Mr Tobias Ellwood Charlie Elphicke George Eustice Mr Nigel Evans David Evennett Michael Fabricant  Sir Michael Fallon  Suella Fernandes Mark Field Vicky Ford Kevin Foster Dr Liam Fox Mr Mark Francois Lucy Frazer George Freeman Mike Freer Mr Marcus Fysh Sir Roger Gale Mark Garnier Mr David Gauke Ms Nusrat Ghani Nick Gibb Mrs Cheryl Gillan John Glen Zac Goldsmith Mr Robert Goodwill Michael Gove Luke Graham Richard Graham Bill Grant Mrs Helen Grant James Gray Chris Grayling  Chris Green Damian Green Justine Greening Mr Dominic Grieve
Mr Sam Gyimah Kirstene Hair Robert Halfon Luke Hall.

Tonight, whilst you were murdering an animal you were naked & dressed up in Piggy's glasses & the mountains you'd seen in your youth were all that was. All that was, the mountains all over the world are so absolutely perfect. They are also terrifying. You wouldn't understand. Alberto Costa.

Tonight, there is a frightened bee in the ignition but who cares? As you turn the key & gaze round at the closed garage door. You look sad at having made some very poor decisions. Robert Courts.

Tonight, whilst you stood up to get the sex toy out of your cupboard there was a stampede of ants on your stairs & you thought domestically like a real stalwart of the house. Like a pip. Ruptured lives tore through the opened horizon. The bee gently stamped its head. Mr Geoffrey Cox.

Tonight, whilst you were saying "I love you", a very sudden death. I know boys who've been with you. You're ready for dispatch. Stephen Crabb.

Tonight, whilst you are just a person like I am a person too you felt you had come to an understanding. What are you doing? Pincers on the shoulders. Tracey Crouch.

Tonight, whilst jackets held you warm you watched. You had a bullet waiting. Chris Davies.

Tonight, the first time you had a fit. It took your teeth into your tongue. How ironic, you thought, that you were seized & stopped from speaking. David T. C. Davies Mr Laurence Robertson Mary Robinson Andrew Rosindell Douglas Ross Lee Rowley Amber Rudd David Rutley Antoinette Sandbach Paul Scully Mr Bob Seely Andrew Selous Grant Shapps Alok Sharma Alec Shelbrooke Mr Keith Simpson Chris Skidmore Chloe Smith Henry Smith Julian Smith Royston Smith Sir Nicholas Soames Anna Soubry Dame Caroline Spelman Mark Spencer Andrew Stephenson John Stevenson Bob Stewart Iain Stewart Rory Stewart Mr Gary Streeter Mel Stride Graham Stuart Julian Sturdy Rishi Sunak Sir Desmond Swayne Sir Hugo Swire  Mr Robert Syms Derek Thomas Ross Thomson Maggie Throup.

Tonight, famous people are dropping like stones. You climb into your helicopter. You are forced in. Glyn Davies.

Tonight, scabies. Nothing less. Mims Davies

Tonight, whilst you were sleeping there are many ways into the cookbook, ways you can assassinate your own time. Philip Davies.

Tonight, it must be nearly three thousand, 3,000 vaults it takes to you like a daddy. Mr David Davis.

Tonight, just in must the animal throttles your vespers. You said it Tridentine & totally illegal. Caroline Dinenage.

Tonight, as you came back to your club it was all gone. All of you were suddenly gone. The thinking around a law around a tummy & daddy said to hush & the masters & mistresses panicked in jolts of specific instruction. One moment you were here the next moment you were gone & it was so bloody well sad I don't think we'll ever bloody well forget it. Mr Jonathan Djanogly.

Tonight, whilst you had one of your so called "dreams" the scaphism happened. That you woke up to. Leo Docherty.

Tonight, assaults on the public sector will come back to haunt you but they won't so I made this pointless spell. That's the message. Julia Dockerill.

Tonight, as I massacre the dart board. No. As you were just about to pop your beautiful little eyes open you decided instead to have a cocaine induced heart attack all over the public image. Michelle Donelan.

Tonight, the surgeons went up 1% you did it good as they took your wrist arteries & sewed them into your eyes. You got a better look at every 1% you liked. Ms Nadine Dorries.

Tonight, whilst you screamed out for a nurse instead an angry band of primary school teachers wrote the word Blake & the word Crayon & the word & Wet all over your back with knives but it was you not them. You were dreaming & cutting into your back in your sleep because that's what you are - a wasted form of resistance to that which has already overcome. Steve Double.

Tonight, whilst you were getting tired out of the keys. Stomach ulcers. Oliver Dowden.

Tonight, Democratic Ulcers plagued your mouth & you spluttered for some poor sod to clean you. Jackie Doyle-Price.

Tonight, dreamy holder of the slop puts it down upside on your tongue for Christ sake let her do her job she hates. Richard Drax.

Tonight, there will be a heap of you. All piled up like puppies at bedtime. I wonder which ailments? I wonder when you have no food who will be the first to be torn up. That will never happen. You have so much. But tonight there will be some kind of forensic end. Teeth will be left of you tomorrow morning. That's all of you. Mr Philip Hammond Stephen Hammond Matt Hancock Greg Hands Mr Mark Harper Richard Harrington Rebecca Harris Trudy Harrison Simon Hart Mr John Hayes Sir Oliver Heald James Heappey Chris Heaton-Harris Peter Heaton-Jones Gordon Henderson Nick Herbert Damian Hinds Simon Hoare George Hollingbery Kevin Hollinrake Mr Philip Hollobone Adam Holloway John Howell Nigel Huddleston Eddie Hughes Mr Jeremy Hunt Mr Alister Jack Margot James Sajid Javid Mr Ranil Jayawardena Mr Bernard Jenkin Andrea Jenkyns Robert Jenrick Boris Johnson Dr Caroline Johnson Gareth Johnson Joseph Johnson Andrew Jones Mr David Jones Mr Marcus Jones Daniel Kawczynski Gillian Keegan Seema Kennedy Stephen Kerr Julian Knight Sir Greg Knight Kwasi Kwarteng John Lamont Mark Lancaster Mrs Pauline Latham Andrea Leadsom Dr Phillip Lee Jeremy Lefroy Sir Edward Leigh Sir Oliver Letwin Andrew Lewer Brandon Lewis Dr Julian Lewis Mr Ian Liddell-Grainger Mr David Lidington Jack Lopresti Mr Jonathan Lord Tim Loughton Craig Mackinlay Rachel Maclean Mrs Anne Main Alan Mak Kit Malthouse Scott Mann Paul Masterton Mrs Theresa May

Tonight, as you were the biting wind & set up yous stuck points into the corners of your eyes & howled out for love & revenge. You knew those to be the same but nothing for. Kelly Tollhurst.

Tonight, Oh, whilst The Must Of The Rich Depth the will is cancelled you have a good grave awaiting tonight whilst you must still be sure to sleep & not slip out into the road where the traffic is a force of appearance there is a little ghost crying for you there. Jeremy Wright.

Tonight, or if it must be called upon what opens you closes you in hallucinatory violence. Nadhim Zahawi.

Tonight, the cacophony of effective rule is standardised & so you take your body out of a fifteenth floor window for. Mr Gregory Campbell.

Tonight, whilst you are resting there morbid thoughts plague you. Realising what it is inhabits the circuits. Nigel Dodds.

Tonight, & well you must. In a sea of comforts there are these floating things. Eyes would never have lasted more than a week even metal down here is slowly irked & tested into the sandy beds. You out you come. Sir Jeffrey M. Donaldson.

Tonight, in the well the water turns to ice you are made to go to it smash it fall under you made yourself after the workforce. What then? Paul Girvan

Tonight, if this is if we can pull it off the whole. What were your names? They were. Justin Tomlinson Michael Tomlinson Craig Tracey David Tredinnick Mrs Anne-Marie Trevelyan Elizabeth Truss Tom Tugendhat Mr Edward Vaizey Mr Shailesh Vara Martin Vickers Theresa Villiers Mr Charles Walker Mr Robin Walker Mr Ben  Wallace David Warburton Matt Warman Giles Watling Helen Whately Craig Whittaker Mr John Whittingdale Bill Wiggin Gavin Williamson Dr Sarah Wollaston Mike Wood Mr William Wragg.

Tonight, just past ten, then will it. But as the creeping thistles in the night. Tonight's sphere of circumstance where the moon crosses itself out the order of of living supposes these well wishing people who are incapacitated of expressives - who are openly non subjects. You have the law for that. The floating vector. The beast. The pathetic excuse. Ian Paisley.

Tonight, wishes pop out from you hurt them. You crown. In the vacant early hours punching the throat. Emma Little Pengelly.

Tonight, as you were asphyxiated in your sleep you cried out. Gavin Robinson.

Tonight, as heaven is no longer surpassed as it is as the troubles had shouted down in the incandescent silent morbid sanctioned demolition the cladding was removed the cap was just like it everything you do the same thing again & again until it burns a hole the whole of the tongue wraps its arms around the tooth of your stock. Never did you listen as the words, tides pulled out. What a mouth you have. All the better for non less over stimulate & pop back in. Ring pull. Death. Jim Shannon.

Tonight, as I wrapped up the head. As your head came off you wrapped it in foil & stuck it in the oven at two hundred degrees on or off? David Simpson.

Tonight, as you slept in your beautiful dreams many screams railed up into the air. They were yours. They had no volta & were a testament to the nearly alive. "We will bury you!". Sammy Wilson.



No comments:

Post a Comment